


Man Behaving Badly

by born_awkward



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Divorce, F/M, Heartbreak, M/M, Modern AU, OH BEN, Rated for subject matter, Starting Over, and bad language, cheating ben solo, crackfic, don't hate me, mention of oral sex, more smut, with serious themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-07 13:31:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17961497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/born_awkward/pseuds/born_awkward
Summary: Rey, a civil engineer, discovers her husband, Ben Solo has been cheating on her.The marriage ends providing copious amounts of tabloid fodder.Can she regain her place on a once in a lifetime project she gave up on to be with her husband?Can she impress the engineer in overall charge of the project - one Kylo Ren? who was interested in working with her - the woman he's heard so much about ...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this on my hard drive for a while. after my other fic. Coup de Foudre was well received, I thought i'd just go for it.
> 
> it's written as sort of a crackfic, with serious themes. if separation and divorce are sensitive subjects for you, then please don't read.

If you asked her the how or the why she knew he was cheating she couldn’t give a definitive answer. It was just this feeling in the back of her mind that something had changed – not that he seemed any less loving or that their sex life diminished, just a feeling something had changed. 

That day the feeling became a conscious thought, she couldn’t say what triggered it. One moment the feeling something had changed between them morphed into ‘I wonder if Ben’s cheating.’ 

Once she had asked herself that question, she asked herself ‘How would I feel about that if he is?’ The answer to that was ‘I don’t know, I’ll have to find out for sure if he is.’ 

That led to her calling Armie Hux, lawyer, friend of Ben, and unspoken admirer of her. 

He was pleased to hear from her. Pleased to hear from her and glad to get some time with her alone, a lunch date. 

So they met up and exchanged pleasantries and news and gossip and then she heard herself saying “Armie, I think Ben’s cheating on me.” 

He sat back in his chair puffing out a long breath of air like someone had punched him. 

“Why do you think that, Rey?” 

“I don’t know, Armie, it’s just a feeling, but somehow I’m certain he is.” 

Still sitting back in his chair, Armie looked at her, the possibilities rushing through his brain, reviewed, discarded, and filed away. 

“Well,” he finally said, “I guess you want me to find out for sure for you.” 

“Please.” 

Six weeks later they met again. 

He met her at the elevator, walking her to his office. 

Her heart sank. 

“Rey, are you sure you want to know?” 

“Armie, I think I already know. I just need to know who, when and where.” 

“And then?” 

“Show me who, when and where, then I can decide.” 

A half hour later she had read of his transgressions, seen who he had transgressed with. 

It’s worth pointing out here that Rey did not have big boobs. No, she had small boobs; a fact which had always bothered her, to a greater or lesser degree, depending on whom she was dating. 

It’s also worth pointing out that Ben had always maintained he wasn’t a boob man; no, sir, his taller than average wife had a great ass, no, a really great ass, sinful even and long tanned legs. That’s what he was: a legs and ass man. Period! 

How was it, then, Rey wondered, that the women (note the plural) he was cheating on her with were short women with big boobs? Whether blonde, brunette or redhead that was their communality – big boobs. 

Rey tried, and failed, not to take this personally. 

+++++ 

She told him she had to go out of town for 3 days to supervise a construction project, (she was a civil engineer – a really good civil engineer) and packed an obvious 3 day trip bag right there in front of him. She even asked him to pack a few things for her. She left on her 3 day trip with his tender kisses on her skin and ‘hurry back soon sweetheart’ in her ears. 

She didn’t go on a 3 day out of town trip. She went to a very nice hotel and booked a very nice room. The hotel was quite close to their apartment. Conveniently close, really. 

That first evening she took a call from the PI Hux had hired for her and joined him shortly outside their apartment. 

“They’ve just gone up.” he said. 

“How long do we wait?” she asked. 

“They seem pretty keen.” he said. 

“Ah, she must be new?” 

He nodded. 

“Let’s get this done.” 

+++++ 

So there she was pushing open their bedroom door, pushing open their bedroom door to find her husband standing by their bed. He was standing by their bed naked. 

Kneeling on the bed was a blonde woman, naked except for a pair of red lace panties. The blonde had big boobs ... and Ben’s penis in her mouth. Ben, judging by the sounds he was making and the low words of encouragement he was uttering, was enjoying the blonde woman having his penis in her mouth. 

Rey thought this was the moment to make her presence felt. Little old party pooper that she was. 

“Hi, Ben, did I come back too soon ... sweetheart?” 

To say he was shocked would be an understatement. 

The blonde woman with the big boobs seemed less than thrilled also. 

In fact she removed Ben’s penis from her mouth and screeched “Who the hell are you?” Ben still didn’t seem able to say anything. 

“Who am I? I’m his wife. And you will be named in my petition for divorce on the grounds of adultery. Don’t worry; you’ll have plenty of company. Won’t she, Ben?” 

At that she left. 

Outside the apartment building, she shook the PI’s hand and thanked him for his trouble. 

He seemed worried about her. 

“Don’t be.” she said. 

Turning on her heel she walked the couple of blocks to her hotel, rode the elevator to her room and lay on her bed. Then she cried as though her heart was broken. 

It was. 

+++++ 

Ben was less than pleased to see Rey standing in the doorway of their bedroom while a buxom blonde woman was giving him oral sex. 

Being caught in flagrante, in fact! 

He also was less than pleased to see she’d brought a witness with her, a very capable looking man, who looked as though he didn’t much like what he was seeing Ben doing with the buxom blonde. Or rather what she was doing to him. 

The fuck! Shouldn’t have come then! 

In fact Ben was so less than pleased that he went into a kind of shock. He wasn’t feeling, he wasn’t thinking for quite a few seconds. Minutes, even. 

He started to think and feel when the blonde attacked him. 

Her shoe was her weapon of choice. 

A couple of hammers with the shoe on his bicep, chest and back got his attention ... eventually, and dragged his mind from the realisation that his wife had just seen what he’d been getting up to when she was out of town - not that she always had to be out of town when he got up to it. 

His reaction was simple. He picked the blonde up and threw her out of the apartment into the hallway. Without her clothes. Just the shoe 

Someone must have been disturbed by her banging on the apartment door with her shoe and called the concierge to complain about the din. 

The concierge arrived with an underling just as he’d finished dragging on some clothes. 

When he opened the door, the annoying blonde launched herself at him once more. 

It was a difficult situation because she was dressed just in red lace panties and nothing else, except the shoe which she was hammering him with ... again. Neither the underling nor the concierge seemed to want to manhandle her. 

So Ben had to, thrusting her into the bedroom with orders to get dressed. 

She did. Then she attacked him ... again. 

This time the underling stepped forward and intervened. Then he asked her if she wanted him to call the police for her, to lodge a complaint. 

Ben lost it. Big time! 

Soon other residents were in his apartment shouting at Ben and criticising his lifestyle choices. 

Someone called the police anyway. 

+++++ 

Eventually, in the early hours of the morning, Ben was alone again. He dashed off three fingers of whisky (Ben had large hands). Then he dashed off another three fingers, then a third. Then he decided to go looking for his wife. He knew just where to look. 

Finn had been Rey’s bestie like forever. Since childhood apparently, when they’d both been orphans. In an orphanage were the orphans were treated very badly. 

Rey spoke to Finn every day, no matter what, every day. 

Ben had never liked the relationship Finn had with his wife. Even though he knew beyond all shadow of a doubt it was chaste and always had been. 

They were so close it was like they were twins. They knew each other so well they sometimes didn’t need to speak, they communicated through body language. 

Ben had seen this and it made him jealous. 

His wife would be at Finn’s. Ben was going to go to Finn’s apartment and he was going to get his wife back. He would never risk losing her again. 

Ben called a cab to take him to Finn’s apartment, and his boyfriend Poe’s apartment. Right now! With over three quarters of a bottle of whisky in him. (He took another three fingers while he waited for the cab). 

+++++ 

Finn knew what Ben had done. All of it! Rey phoned Finn every day, no matter what. 

Finn told his boyfriend. His boyfriend hated Ben too. Like majorly. 

+++++ 

The Scots have a saying: ‘Drink in, wits out.’ 

The Scots drink a lot of whisky. They know what a lot of whisky can do to wits. 

Ben’s wits were frazzled; a mixture of too much whisky, jealousy over Finn, worry that his wife wouldn’t come back to him and deep, deep shame over his behaviour. 

So when he arrived at Finn and Poe’s apartment he didn’t knock at the door, no, he chose, as a drunken adult with too much whisky in him, he chose to hammer at the door calling out his wife’s name and bellowing at Finn, you bastard, to open the door and give him his wife back. 

(Rey had anticipated he would go to Finn’s and for that reason had chosen to stay in a hotel). 

Finn and Poe shouted through the door that she wasn’t there. Unfortunately, Finn also chose to add that he was glad Rey had left him as he was a gross fornicating shit. 

Ben chose to try to kick the door in to beat up Finn and Poe and take his wife home. 

Unfortunately for Ben, Poe, immediately upon hearing his boyfriend’s voiced opinion of Ben, rang the police. 

So did some of the neighbours. 

The police came. 

This time the police did not work to smooth things over, they arrested Ben, who threw a punch - at a policeman. They dragged him away with him calling out his wife’s name and threatening to kill Finn ... and Poe. 

+++++ 

After he’d been processed, he demanded his right to a phone call. He called Hux, who told him, regretfully, that he’d love to represent him, but he was on retainer by his wife. Then he hung up. 

Ben stared at the phone. Then he ripped the entire thing off the wall and stomped on it to smithereens. 

The policemen were not pleased. 

They put Ben in the worse cell they had. 

It was pretty awful. 

Ben thought he might die of typhoid ... or cholera. It was that kind of awful. 

Be mindful the saying of the Scots. 

+++++ 

Hux was thrilled to tell Ben what he told him. Hux had fallen in love with Rey the moment he saw her. 

So too had Ben. 

Rey had fallen in love with Ben. Not Hux. 

Because Hux loved her, he allowed himself a moment of glee, yes, glee at Ben’s predicament, then he rang Ben’s mother, who was also a lawyer, and handed the matter over to her. 

Ben’s mother understood that Ben had got drunk and caused a fracas. Ben’s mother called the precinct and confirmed she was his lawyer and she’d be along later today when bail was set and get Ben out of jail. 

Leia loved Rey. Initially, Leia had been concerned the fact that Rey and Ben had met and got married within a month of meeting. They had married in a courthouse too. Leia felt a little cheated about that. Rey, however, in the eighteen months she and Ben had been married, won Leia over. 

She was a professional woman who wrote papers and articles about her discipline. She was environmentally aware and spoke knowledgeably about alternative fuel sources. Rey was Leia’s kind of woman. 

So when Ben had been processed and bail set and paid, Leia stood on the steps of the courthouse and got the full story out of Ben. 

When Leia heard about Ben’s cheating, and how he’d been caught in flagrante delicto by Rey, she slapped his face. She slapped his face so hard he saw stars, and there was a ringing in his ears. 

Her final words to her firstborn, indeed, her only born, were: “Get another lawyer.” 

Ben knew she meant it. 

He was fucked. 

Totally! 

+++++ 

She would never go back to him, her cheating husband, but ... truth be told she missed him every waking minute of every day. 

Missed his hands on her hips every chance he got. 

Missed his sloppy kisses to her breasts; the wet mouthing. Did he, with the other women ... the women with bigger breasts than hers? 

She missed him blowing soft breaths under her ear and down the nape of her neck - his signature move to get her in the mood for early morning sex. 

She missed him slapping her ass every time they walked into their apartment: ‘Get in there with you, woman!’ 

She missed being cuddled in bed by him. 

Sleeping was a problem now. 

She bought extra pillows to wedge against her back, pretending it was him. 

Better. 

Then she bought a large squishy teddy bear to cuddle. 

Better, but not the same. 

+++++ 

He was being difficult. 

Of course he was. 

First he tried to blame her. 

(If he guilted her, maybe she’d come back. Drop the whole thing). 

Leaving town on business trips and leaving him vulnerable to designing women. 

(Lots of designing women it seemed). 

Ben, ‘don’t bring a knife to a gunfight.’ (Didn’t a Scot say that?). 

Hux was so on it. 

He pointed out that Rey was still in town when many of the ‘vulnerabilities’ had occurred. 

And he had tape taken from CCTV in a hotel elevator – of Ben and his latest ‘vulnerability’ on their way to Ben’s regular hotel suite. 

The intent was clear. 

Ben was a willing participant. 

What the fuck! 

Then Hux threw in that he was able to prove that whenever Rey left town, she mostly got back the same day – to him. 

On account she couldn’t bear to be parted from him even for one night, if she could help it. 

He had often fitted in his ‘designing women’ in the 8-12 hours she was away – the length of an average working day. 

Oh-kay! 

Then he began to argue about fiscal arrangements – there was no pre-nup. 

Hux pointed out that Rey asked for nothing – only her freedom. 

A hiatus was called due to destructive behaviour – Ben’s. 

+++++ 

He was currently living in a hotel on account his neighbours hated him. 

The feeling was mutual. 

It seemed that they had hired Hux also. 

The same day he was served his divorce papers, he was served with a notice to evict him on account of breaches of his lease. 

Hux was acting on behalf of the leaseholders – and the residents committee. 

Like he said, he hated his neighbours ... and the blonde. 

He was also beginning to wonder if Hux was enjoying this more than he ought – him being a long-time friend of Ben’s. 

He chose to brood on that thought. 

He suddenly had the bright idea that moving from his apartment may not be a bad thing. 

The place had been his bachelor pad, and it occurred to him that had they moved out and got their own place when they married things might not have come to this. 

He hadn’t let go of being a bachelor because he was still living in his bachelor pad. See! 

He wondered if he could sell this thought to Rey, who wouldn’t speak to him? 

He bet she was still speaking to Finn, every day, no matter what. 

He chose to brood over that thought. 

+++++ 

Finally, a day was set to reconvene. 

He insisted Rey was there. 

When he saw her again he was overjoyed, until she wouldn’t look at him. 

Or speak to him directly. 

He threw a tantrum. 

Papers and files went flying. 

Rey banged on the desk and said one word, his name: “Ben!” 

He settled. 

“Ben, I will always love you.” 

His heart soared with joy and hope. 

“But I can’t reconcile with you, not now, not ever.” 

He scowled and went to speak. 

They would have been rash, impulsive words. 

Her hand went up, “Ben!” 

He subsided, still scowling 

“Ben, I lived with you over eighteen months and the only fault I ever found in you that love couldn’t cover was your selfishness. And look where that’s brought us.” 

“I’ve learnt that when you say you love me you mean it, but there’s a caveat: you love me in your own way. And that’s not enough, clearly.” 

“I would like my clothes, but Hux tells me you want me to come pack them in the apartment while you’re there. That’s never going to happen, so keep them.” 

“No matter what you do, you can’t stop the divorce going through. I have too much evidence of your adulteries, and a witness.” 

She looks down at her hands. 

He looks at her hands. 

She’s not wearing her wedding ring. 

He’s wearing his. 

It just got real. 

“So stop trying to speak to me or making difficulties that aren’t there. Trying to delay things so you think you can get me to change my mind. I won’t.” 

“I don’t want your money or your name, and I don’t want you.” 

“Goodbye, Ben.” 

She left. 

+++++ 

There was absolute silence in the room. 

She had laid out her position very clearly. 

She had a tendency toward stubbornness. 

She would not change her mind. 

He’d lost her. 

He had lost her. 

He stood up. 

“Hux, negotiate the purchase of an apartment for her in a safe neighbourhood. Work out a monthly alimony payment for her that she’ll accept. I’ll leave instructions with the concierge at my building. She can collect her clothes. I won’t be there.” 

He turned to his lawyer. 

“Whatever he asks for on those two things, draw it up and I’ll sign. Then submit your account. Case closed.” 

He walked out. 

He went to his apartment and retrieved his car. 

He drove to his parents’ house. 

His dad answered the door, “Son?” 

“I’ve lost her, Dad. I had her and I let her go, Me. Myself. I.” 

He began to sob. 

Han took him in his arms. 

“Come home, son.” 

+++++ 

There was a project she’d lobbied for, written articles on, appeared on television to speak about, argue for. 

The building of a new all-weather airport on a new site, taking pressure off the over burdened City hub. 

With a high speed rail line to the City – 45 minutes transit time, direct to the terminals. 

The runways and aircraft taxi areas would be heated by pipes using energy from the earth enabling all-weather flying. 

Underground reservoirs, which would collect rainwater to flush toilets and provide water for all services. 

A once in a lifetime project, that she’d turned down because of her husband – Ben Solo – not wanting to spend more time away from him than the length of a normal working day. 

+++++ 

She reviewed her situation; spoke with her board of directors. 

They were thrilled and appointed her in charge of the runway portion of the project. 

The overall head of the project was a highly respected engineer she’d briefly met and discussed technologies with: Kylo Ren. 

Apparently, he’d been looking forward to working with her, the woman he’d heard so much about, and was disappointed when she took herself off the project - because of Ben Solo, her cheating ex. 

Now, though, she would report directly to him - the supreme leader - give him whatever he wanted. 

Indeed, he could take whatever he wanted, and she would give it to him.


	2. Chapter 2

He had seen her at a trade seminar and fallen for her hard. 

He made sure he was introduced to her and had fifteen minutes of blissful conversation on pier and beam foundations before they were interrupted. 

All through their conversation he wanted to invite her to dinner and get her to himself for a while, but he was still working on an overseas project with about six to eight months’ work left to run, so hesitated to get involved. He lived to regret his hesitancy. 

The next he heard, she’d married some entitled asshole after a whirlwind romance and was lost to him. He vowed if she ever came into his orbit again he wouldn’t hold back – if she were free. 

He finished his overseas contract and moved onto the airport project. Casting his eye down the lists of assigned engineers, he saw her name. Not her married name but her professional name, which garnered a lot of respect in their industry. He could barely conceal the excitement he felt knowing he’d be working close quarters with her. 

Then he got the heads up she’d pulled from the project – something about not wanting to be away too long from her new husband. By this time he’d read an article on their marriage in one of the celebrity magazines he’d picked up at the supermarket. He took one look at the permanently sulky face of her husband staring out of the feature and took to prefixing entitled asshole with _spoilt_. 

Then the marriage was on the skids, apparently, and she was back on the team. 

He tried to remain neutral, but the site lunch room catered to all reading tastes and the tabloids were tracking the fallout of the Niima-Solo marriage – ghouls at the wedding feast. 

He’d been cheating, apparently, multiple times. He couldn’t stop a growl escaping him reading this. 

The photo of his mom slapping his chops on the courthouse steps went viral. The fury on Leia Organa’s face! Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law had been close, reportedly. 

He winced when he saw it – Mama Solo wasn’t messing. Mama Solo was his kind of woman. 

He reaffirmed his vow. 

+++++ 

She stood before him in tailored business suit and blouse. Even though the suit had the mark of bespoke about it, it was hanging off her, clearly she’d lost a lot of weight very quickly. 

Her face was pinched and angular, her hands claw-like in their thinness – all sinew and knobbly joints. If Ben Solo had walked into the room he’d have punched him out. 

She must have seen the snarl on his features and taken it for hostility toward her. He was quick to smooth out his scowl and sit her down, make her tea and spend some time in conversation. He watched her hunched, defensive posture relax. 

+++++ 

They were staying at the same hotel and he took to having breakfast with her, encouraging her to eat. She was clearly struggling living in a hotel and after six weeks mentioned that she was moving out, had found a rental. 

“Do you need a roomie?” 

His mouth had engaged before his brain. 

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. 

“What kind of roomie?” 

“Oh, the sort who shares expenses, has his own room, can cook up a storm.” 

The last bit sold her on the idea, he could tell. 

“You can cook?” 

“Like a dream, princess.” 

Shit, he hadn’t meant to say that. 

She didn’t seem to notice, he could practically hear her brain buzzing. 

She was speaking. 

“Wouldn’t that cause problems, us living together?” She stumbled over her next words, “Well, not living together living together – obviously.” 

“Not if I inform my board and hand your performance reviews over to my deputy.” 

She continued to observe him through narrowed eyes. 

“Why would you even want to be my roomie?” 

“Well, it could be because I haven’t had a proper home for the longest time, and I’m likely to be on this project 4-6 years. Living out of a suitcase gets old after a while.” 

He decided to be bold (and truthful). 

“Or maybe I’ve fallen deeply in love with you and this is the best way to get close to you.” 

She snorted with laughter. 

Looking at him, her face softened. 

“Do you really not have a home base?” 

He shook his head. 

“No, I tried for a little while to keep a place, but figuring out the upkeep when I was away months at a time ...” 

He shrugged. 

“I tried renting it out, but then it didn’t feel like home - just an ongoing maintenance problem.” 

He shrugged again. 

She was worrying her bottom lip. 

“Belonging somewhere is important.” 

“It is.” 

“There’d be no hanky-panky.” 

He smothered a laugh. Is that what they were calling it these days? 

“No hanky, no panky” he intoned. 

He could see she badly wanted to laugh. 

“And it would be our home, so no lady friends over.” 

She paused. 

“Or men friends” – said uncertainly. 

“No lady friends. No gentlemen callers”, he deadpanned, giving nothing away. 

Again she smothered a laugh, giving a little snort. 

Adorable! 

+++++ 

He informed his board of their arrangement and assigned her assessments to his deputy – adding in a few others. 

They moved in together and went shopping in the closest large town for household items. 

They bought their own bedding; black for him, floral for her. 

As designated cook, he bought pots and pans and a Keurig. 

She bought a teapot. 

They shared the cost of a dinner service and silverware. 

When the reality of them living together hit her, he saw her tense up. 

He decided to cook something classic and quick: baked potato with steak and broccoli – made his own garlic butter and was lavish in its deployment. 

He had her at first bite. 

He followed up with pancakes for breakfast and tea brewed in the pot the English way. 

She was purring as they headed for their cars – they drove to work separately, no point advertising their arrangement. 

+++++ 

They’d shopped happily for household goods and it was lovely to be part of a shared experience again, except, of course, had it been with Ben, her cheating ex, his hand would have been resting on the small of her back the whole time, ushering her through the store. 

He would have leaned into her, chin resting on her shoulder, while she made her choices – his hands on her hips. 

However, when they closed their front door reality hit – she was alone with a massive stranger, who was also her boss and an unknown quantity, and panicked. 

He was imperturbable, happily striding off to his room with his bedding, calling out to give him five and he’d start dinner. 

She squashed down her worry, hoping it didn’t show, but a sudden feeling of lack of agency had her quivering anxiously over some as yet unspecified threat. 

He was walking back toward her: “Dinner in half an hour, princess.” 

She nodded and scuttled into her room to make her bed. 

She kept going to her bedroom door, listening to the sounds within the house. 

He was in the kitchen, alternately whistling and singing snatches of song. 

Then, “Grub’s up.” 

The food he put before her smelt divine. 

The pulp of the baked potato was fluffed up, the skin crisp. 

He had put a cube of butter on the steak, and whatever was in it had her salivating as it melted over its surface. 

She put her face over the plate, inhaling the food’s aroma, eyes closed. 

Looking up, he was sat down with his own food plate before him, his whiskey coloured eyes were alive with amusement at her reaction to the food he’d cooked for her, and an unreadable expression. 

“Tuck in, princess.” 

So she did. 

Food had not been a priority since the break-up with Ben. 

At first when she tried eating, the knots in her stomach had caused her to heave after a mouthful. She was aware she’d lost a lot of weight which she could ill afford, but somehow food repelled her in her distressed state. 

This food, however, spoke with a siren’s voice and she picked up her knife and fork and dove in. 

Her stomach must have shrunk, she guessed, because she had to take a couple of breathers before continuing and couldn’t eat the whole plateful. 

She looked at what remained with a mixture of distress and regret and apologised to the chef. 

“No worries, princess, you did well.” 

He poured her a half glass of a Californian cabernet franc, which she sipped slowly, savouring the flavour of the wonderful wine while he was busy in the kitchen cleaning up, her tummy full and satisfied. 

+++++ 

Sleeping had also been a problem, but she slept well that night, awakening to a knocking on her door and “wakey-wakey, princess!” 

She showered and dressed and scuttled into the kitchen. Maybe she could snag a bowl of cereal. 

Oh, joy! Fresh cooked pancakes awaited her and hot, sweet tea – made properly in the pot. 

She was aware of a purring noise and realised it was coming from her. 

Flushing, she finished her breakfast and scooted out the door, heading for work.


	3. Chapter 3

Armitage Hux had not been glad Rey had broken with Ben, even though he’d always wanted her and, quite frankly, thought Ben unworthy of her. 

Her grief and regret at the way her marriage had ended had been so raw it was painful to see. He would never wish such pain on her even if it freed her. 

He had seen her waste away, inconsolable and unable to eat, but still exhibiting an inner strength when dealing with her cheating ex and focusing on her future career. 

It was understandable she would want to get away from the city, and he left it until he heard from her. 

She eventually wrote and told him she was renting and had a settled abode, and a roommate. She enclosed her new address. 

He let a couple of months go by and decided to make a surprise visit. 

It was quite a long car journey. He decided to visit on a Sunday, maybe stay over, and drive back early Monday to the office. 

He pulled up before a rambling single storey building – was it a converted barn and outbuildings? 

There were a few shallow steps and then a wooden door with a heavily carved lower panel and two stained glass panels above, with brass fittings. It didn’t match the building. Reclaimed, perhaps? 

There was a bell. 

He pushed it and heard a distant buzz and a man’s voice: “I’ll get it, princess.” 

What! Who? Princess! 

A shadow loomed large the other side of the door’s glass panels, and then it was swung open and he was facing a broad chest. He raised his eyes up and up and everything he thought he knew about himself went up in flames like so much dry kindling. 

He had thought Ben was tall and broad, but this man trumped him in height and width – at least 6’3”, seeming as broad as he was long. 

Bulging biceps were on show courtesy of the tight short-sleeved black t-shirt he was wearing. 

Long, lustrous black hair, which was worn collar length, a moustache and scrappy goatee which darkened his face, and deep whiskey coloured eyes which passed from inquiry to amusement as they waited on his introduction. 

Hux was aware his mouth had dropped open. He snapped it shut, flustered. 

The ~~demigod~~ man raised his arms and crossed them over his chest. Hux began salivating at the sight of more exposed musculature. 

The ~~demigod~~ man was speaking. 

“If this is some kind of stand-off, I warn you, I got all day.” 

There was the sound of quick steps from inside the house then Rey’s voice. 

“Kylo, who is it?” 

Rey stepped around the ~~demigod~~ man, her hand briefly resting on his bicep. Hux wanted to peel her hand off it and slap it away. 

“Armie!” 

She launched herself at him, arms winding around his neck. He stood there, immobile. 

She pulled back, tugging him inside. 

“Come in, come in. This is unexpected. Why didn’t you let us know you were coming? Is everything alright? Is Ben alright?” 

All he could focus on was that she’d said _us_. There was an _us_. He didn’t like that. 

The ~~demigod~~ man had turned and was walking into the house, ass high and compact in tight skinny jeans. 

Hux realised he was sweating; he could feel beads of it on his upper lip. 

Shit, shit, bugger, fuck! 

Rey was closing the front door, looking at him with real concern. 

“Armie, is it Ben? Has something happened to Ben?” 

He shook his head, trying to find his voice. 

“Not Ben,” he croaked, “I just need water.” 

Her face cleared. 

“Of course. Come, come sit down.” 

She was chatting about the air conditioning in cars and how drying it could be. 

He followed her down a short corridor into a kitchen. The ~~demigod~~ man was there standing at the island mixing something. There was the most delicious aroma of cooking. 

The ~~demigod~~ man looked up, an amused look on his face. 

Hux dropped his head and trudged after Rey into a vast living/dining room. She led him to a large leather sofa in front of a huge stone fireplace. It was set with logs but unlit. 

“Sit, Armie, and I’ll get you a glass of cool water. Do you have a headache; can I get you something for that?” 

He shook his head. 

“No headache.” 

She disappeared. There was a large square coffee table in front of him, a box of tissues on it. He leaned forward and pulled a handful out, dabbing his upper lip and forehead. He felt hot. 

Rey was there handing him a glass of cool water. He gulped it down. 

“Thank you”, he croaked. 

“Would you like another?” 

Her voice was filled with concern for him. 

He shook his head. 

“No, no thank you. I’m fine now.” 

“Dinner won’t be long, we have enough for three.” 

There was a _we_? He didn’t like that. 

“No, no,” he got out, “I was just passing and thought I’d drop by on my way home.” 

She let go a peal of laughter. 

“Just passing! Armie, we are miles from the city, how could you be just passing?” 

“Client,” he got out, “on my way back from a client, thought I’d stop by.” 

“Oh! Well it’s good to see you. How have you been?” 

“Good. Everything’s good.” 

He nodded as if to confirm this to himself. 

He made an effort. 

“And you?” 

He looked at her for the first time, really looked. 

She’d put on weight and there was colour in her cheeks. 

She was wearing pale grey yoga pants trimmed with pink and a white crochet crop top - a sports bra matching the pants was visible under it. 

She looked well ... and well cared for. 

He felt like snarling. 

He jumped up. 

“I have to go.” 

“Wait! What? You just got here, you can’t go!” 

“I must”, his voice came out strangled. 

He walked toward the kitchen. 

A tall shape dressed all in black was moving toward them. 

Shit, shit, bugger, fuck! 

“Kylo, Armie wants to leave. Tell him to stay and eat dinner with us.” 

“Not at all, of course he’s welcome to stay, but if he needs to be somewhere else then he needs to be somewhere else.” 

The deep rumble of the ~~demigod’s~~ man’s voice went through Hux - made him shiver. 

“K-eye-low”, Rey’s voice had a scolding tone. 

Hux wanted to vomit at the intimacy it hinted at. 

“Prinn-cess”, his reply was mocking. 

Hux heard a huff from her and then silence. 

The ~~demigod~~ man was holding out his hand. 

Hux stared at it fascinated, then tentatively reached out to grasp the proffered large paw. 

His hand was gripped firmly. 

Kylo’s grip was warm – hot even. He was pulled against that massive chest into a bro hug. The chest was also warm – hot even. He felt himself flush, grow delirious. Then he was set free; stumbling a little, leaning toward that hot expanse. 

Then Rey was hugging him, telling him they’d probably be in the city Christmas or New Years, they’d catch up then. 

She said _they’d_. He didn’t like that. 

He headed for the front door, fumbling with the latch. 

“Here, let me.” 

Rey opened the door without bother, following him into the street. 

“Armie, are you sure you won’t stay?” 

He was struggling with the key fob, trying to get the driver’s door open. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

Finally, he had the door open and climbed in. Managed the seatbelt, although fumbling madly, and turned the ignition. 

Rey stood watching and waving until he was out of sight, then turned and went back into the house. 

She wandered into the kitchen. 

“Kylo, what do you think was wrong with Armie? Do you think he’s coming down with flu?” 

Kylo wore a smug, knowing look. 

“I’m sure I’ve no idea, princess. Now get your sweet little fanny in gear and set the table.” 

She blew a raspberry at him but moved to obey. 

+++++ 

Hux travelled about twenty miles before pulling over in the midst of farmland. 

Up to a half hour ago, he’d regarded himself as a somewhat prissy heterosexual in love with Rey Solo nee Niima. 

He now understood: Rey Niima was not, in fact, the object of his affections, rather his rival for the affections of the man she called Kylo. 

He leaned his head against the steering wheel. 

Shit, shit, bugger, fuck! 


	4. Chapter 4

Ben Solo, almost nine months after his wife left and subsequently divorced him, was a much changed man – except for the determination to get his wife back and never risk losing her again. 

His relationship with his dad had never been better and, slowly but surely, his mom was softening her stance toward him – seeing how genuine his grief was over the loss of Rey. 

He was still living at home, his apartment having been sold – good riddance to his neighbours. 

This didn’t cramp his style at all. Having given up women, his social life was mainly sharing beers with his dad and his dad’s wingman, Chewie - listening to the pair of them shooting the breeze. 

He also was his mother’s preferred escort to her various socials. 

If he didn’t already regret Rey, going to these jollies reinforced his sense of loss. It was as if he had a target on his back in spite of his wearing his wedding ring. Every single gal with breeding wanted to be the next Mrs. Benjamin Solo. His presence at these various functions ensured a good turnout, which pleased his mother and appalled him. 

Still, he was in a period of atonement so sucked it up. 

It was at one of these functions, just before Thanksgiving, that he learnt his wife was shacked up with another man and doing very nicely without him, thank you very much. 

He owed his enlightenment to Hux, who had turned up to one of his mother’s fundraisers. 

Since Hux’s involvement in his divorcing, he hadn’t had much to do with him, most definitely hadn’t sought him out. 

The ginger had always been a pain in the ass, but was outclassing himself – on edge and bitchy to a fault. 

They were sat at the same table and Hux was being particularly unpleasant about the whole shebang. Ben wasn’t thrilled about being there, but it was for a good cause. 

It had been an offhand remark by Ben that kicked the whole thing off. 

“Jesus, Hux, give it a rest. You seriously need to get laid, buddy.” 

Back came the snide retort. 

“Not all of us are as fortunate as your ex, Solo, with sex on tap.” 

Ben’s dark brown eyes turned flinty, his voice dangerously low as he asked: 

“What’s that about my wife, Hux?” 

Hux blanched and started to backtrack. 

Ben wasn’t going to let that happen, “Men’s room, now!” 

Hux looked as though he’d refuse, but Ben had stood, stretching to his full, impressive height. 

Ben’s voice was still dangerously low, “Under your own steam, Hux, or on the toe of my shoe.” 

Hux looked into Ben’s eyes and capitulated, rising and making his way to the men’s room, trying to figure how to soften the blow during the coming interrogation. 

Ben was under court order not to cause a disturbance of the peace, which still had a little ways to run. However, Hux had no confidence in Ben’s self-restraint when it came to matters concerning Rey. 

Ben checked the stalls and turned the lock on the rest room door. 

“Out with it, what do you mean my wife has sex on tap?” 

Hux swallowed and considered lying. Ben reached out and pushed him back against the bathroom wall, placing a large hand in the centre of his chest, pressing hard. 

“If you don’t tell me, right now, about my wife, I’ll rip your heart clean out of your chest and go ask her.” 

Ben’s voice was perfectly calm. A perfectly calm Ben Solo was a dangerous Ben Solo. 

“I visited,” Hux blurted out, “three weeks ago, and she’s living in a rental property with a man. He’s her lover, I believe.” 

Ben moved his hand onto Hux’s shoulder and began massaging it, digging his fingers into the fleshy part of his shoulder. 

“Why were you visiting my wife, Hux?” 

“I ... I ...” 

“Were you going to make a move on my wife, Hux? Going behind my back to fix your interest with her? Driving three hours to sweet talk her – trying to get into her bed?” 

“I ... yes, I wanted to see her. I thought I loved her, but now I know I don’t. There was a man there, he was cooking for her. They are a couple. She looks good, better than ever. He takes care of her.” 

Of all the things Hux could have said to him, the final sentence was the one which kicked off Ben Solo’s rage. 

“He takes care of her? How does he take care of her?” 

“He cooks for her.” 

“Yes, you said that already.” 

“And he calls her princess.” 

“Princess?” 

“Yes, and she looks good, real good. Her skin, her hair, she glows. Like I said, he takes care of her.” 

“Who is he?” 

“I don’t know. She calls him Kylo.” 

Ben snorted. 

“Kylo, what kind of name is that?” 

“His name and she says it K-eye-low when she wants him to do something for her.” 

“She does? 

“Yes, she does.” 

“What did she want him to do?” 

“What?” 

“You said she says his name differently when she wants him to do something for her. What did she want him to do?” 

“Oh, just persuade me to stay.” 

“To stay?” 

“Yes, I felt ... I felt I was intruding. He was about to serve dinner and she wanted me to stay, but he didn’t want me to.” 

Ben was nodding. 

“So he wanted her to himself?” 

“Yes, yes, that’s it. He wanted shot of me so he had her to himself.” 

“So you left?” 

“Yes, yes. It was obvious they were intimate with each other and I felt out of place.” 

Hux stole a look at Ben Solo’s face and quickly dropped his eyes. The hand on his shoulder had stilled and was removed as Ben moved back to lean against the vanity counter. 

“You can go now. If you’re wise, you’ll stay out of my way. If you want to live, stay away from my wife. In whatever capacity, stay away from my wife.” 

Ben Solo raised his eyes to lock them with Hux’s, his face ravaged and something old and ugly behind his eyes. 

“Yes, yes, I’ll stay away from her. Don’t worry.” 

“I’m not worried, but you should be.” 

Without another word, Hux scuttled out of the rest room and out of the venue. 

Ben switched to autopilot; back to his table, back to watch his mother grandstanding from the stage, mechanically going through the motions. 

The fundraiser was a resounding success and his mother was buzzing with triumph. 

If she noticed her son was quiet, she put it down to sulking over having to turn out and be nice to people. 

She was straight onto Han when they got home. Filling his ears with the success the evening had been. 

Ben bid them goodnight and left his long-suffering father to his mother’s chatter. 

He changed for bed, looking speculatively at his phone where it lay on the nightstand. 

He picked it up and dialled. 

It rang a few times and there she was, voice thick with sleep and sounding disorientated. 

“Hullo.” 

“Hi, it’s me.” 

“Ben? Ben, is that you?” 

“It is.” 

A short pause, “Are you alright? Are the folks alright?” 

He could hear the sleep sloughing off her at the thought he was ringing with bad news. 

“Everyone’s fine. I’m fine. I just wanted to hear your voice. I love you.” 

Another pause, “What time is it?” 

“It’s a little after one.” 

“Ben, you are so fortunate I don’t have work tomorrow ... Why are you calling?” 

“I told you, I needed to hear your voice and I love you.” 

“Ben, I’m going to hang up.” 

“No, please don’t hang up. We need to talk.” 

“No, Ben, we don’t need to talk.” 

“You haven’t said you love me.” 

There was a long sigh the other end, and the sound of movement? 

“Ben, I will always love you. What we shared for a time was very special to me, but if this is about getting back together, don’t even think about it. That ship has sailed. It will never happen.” 

“Why won’t it happen?” 

His voice sounded petulant even to his own ears. 

“Ben, let’s recap. I told you I was out of town for three days and, for the sake of convenience, you took another woman into our home, into our bed, and had sex with her.” 

Her voice was still soft and low, but there was an edge creeping into it. 

“I’m not that man anymore, Rey, I’ve changed. I see what I did was wrong and I’d never do something like that again. I’m a better person – you made me a better person.” 

“Well, that’s good, Ben. Now you can start over - just not with me.” 

“Why not with you, when we both love each other?” 

“Because love isn’t enough, Ben, I don’t trust you anymore - could never trust you. You almost destroyed me – I could never hand you that power again.” 

Her voice was raised slightly now, developing a real edge. 

He was upsetting her. They weren’t talking – were just short of yelling. 

“But you still love me?” 

She sighed. 

“I do. Let me lay it on the line. I love you, but I’m not _in love_ with you anymore. I wish you no harm, Ben; I truly don’t, but give up this idea of us getting back together because that is never going to happen. I don’t trust you anymore and sometimes trust is more important than love.” 

“I don’t want to hear this.” 

“I know you don’t, but there it is.” 

There was a long pause. She started to speak so he interrupted. 

“I love you, sweetheart.” 

There was a brief silence, then: 

“Goodnight, Ben.” 

She hung up. 

He redialled, it went straight to voicemail. 

+++++ 

She laid her phone down on the counter, switched off, and placed her elbows on the counter cradling her head in her hands. 

There was a shuffling noise and Kylo stood in the kitchen doorway, silently regarding her. 

“Is there a problem?” 

His deep voice rumbled through the silence of the kitchen, the only other sound was the background hum of the refrigerator. 

“Sorry to disturb you, it was my ex.” 

She shrugged. 

“I’ll block him in the morning after zero hours of sleep.” 

“Would you like to sleep with me?” 

She nodded, putting up her arms. He lifted her up, her legs curling around his waist. He started for his room. 

Her arms were around his neck, head lying on his chest facing toward him. 

“Sometimes, she said, trust is more important than love.” 

“It is.”


	5. Chapter 5

Finn knew all about Kylo, of course he did, Rey spoke to him every day, no matter what. 

He knew she’d put the weight back on she’d lost over the break up and divorce – and maybe gained a few pounds more. 

He knew she loved the project she was working on, and her roomie was someone she could hold a conversation with. 

Said roomie also cooked up a storm, and she was learning how to chop ingredients properly and prepare simple dishes. 

He knew that although they occasionally slept together they hadn’t had sex, but they would – soon. 

He knew that Armitage Hux had visited them and acted very strangely. 

He _didn’t_ know Armitage Hux had clued Ben Solo in that his wife had moved in with Kylo, until Ben Solo cornered him in the men’s room of his favourite bar and interrogated him. 

“There’s not a lot to tell, Solo. She got tired of living in a hotel and moved into a rental and another engineer on the project moved in as her roomie and shares expenses." 

“Is she sleeping with him?” 

“Did I mention gender?” 

“Don’t get smart Finn, Hux told me it’s a guy, a guy called Kylo.” 

“Look, this is highly inappropriate. Why don’t you call Rey and ask her yourself – as if it’s any of your business. You’re divorced now; did you not get the papers?” 

“She is still my wife and I would call her, but she’s blocked me. You, though, she speaks to you every day, no matter what. Is she sleeping with him?” 

“I don’t know what Hux told you, but they are roomies, sharing expenses, they are not having sex.” 

Ben regarded him through narrowed eyes. 

“Why does he cook for her?” 

“Solo, I’m not going to answer any more questions. If Hux knows something I don’t, then go interrogate him.” 

“I already did. Now, why does he cook for her?” 

Finn sighed. 

“It’s not rocket science, Solo. You were married to her, you should know she can’t cook – that was part of the deal: he cooked, she ate." 

He glared at Ben. 

“She lost a lot of weight after the breakup - wasted away to almost nothing. You didn’t take care of her – Kylo does." 

For one heart stopping moment, he thought Ben would punch him out. His hands certainly curled into fists and he scowled ferociously. Then he turned on his heel and slammed out of the rest room all but taking the door off its hinges. 

Finn walked shakily back to the bar and Poe. 

“Babe, you look unwell. Are you feeling ok?” 

Finn slid into the booth and took a big gulp of his drink. 

“I just got interrogated by Ben Solo. He knows about Kylo. That slimy slut Hux told him about them.” 

Poe was furious. 

“Did he touch you, because if he did ...” 

“No. He just wanted to know if Rey and Kylo were having sex. I told him no, but he does take care of her and then he slammed out the bathroom." 

Poe looked thoughtful. 

“Sounds like someone’s battling a guilty conscience”, he mused. 

“He’s a dick”, opined Finn. 

“That too”, Poe grinned. 

Three days later a cease and desist letter was delivered to Ben Solo from Finn and Poe’s lawyer. 

+++++ 

They were hosting Poe and Finn over Thanksgiving, the pair of them staying overnight. 

Kylo made a big impression. 

“Well, hello," purred Poe, "aren’t you a snack!” 

Finn had hugged Rey tightly and was holding her by the hips, looking her up and down. 

“You look good, girl, those few extra pounds suit you.” 

She laughed self-consciously. 

There was a disturbance off to the side. Kylo was kissing Poe. 

Finn rolled his eyes, “Poe, please, manners.” 

As Poe gave a hug to Rey, Finn apologised for his lover’s exuberance. 

“It’s ok,” Kylo said smugly, “I seem to have that effect on Rey’s gay friends.” 

Rey was about to enquire who her other friend was, puzzled by his remark, when Poe took in their home and commented on it. 

“Wow, is this a converted barn?” 

”We think so. We keep meaning to ask our landlady, Mrs. Kanata, but are never able to get a word in edgewise the few occasions we’ve seen her." 

“The hall, kitchen and living room are huge,” Rey was speaking as she followed Finn and Poe into the kitchen, Kylo’s hand grasped firmly. “The bedrooms are functional; we think they are converted outbuildings.” 

“By the way, Kylo has given his room up for you both. It’s got a king size bed and en-suite.” 

Poe waggled his eyebrows, “Plenty of room for three, then." 

“Sorry to disappoint," retorted Kylo, "but Rey is sleeping with me.” 

Poe went off into a peal of laughter. Finn looked at Rey interestedly. Rey blushed. 

+++++ 

She was curled up on one of the leather sofas with Finn – Poe could cook and was in the kitchen with Kylo engaging in a culinary peeing contest. 

“So," said Finn, "by the sound of it, you’ve both done the deed!” 

She blushed and nodded. 

“The night Ben called. Kylo was so tender and caring. So different from Ben with his passion and possession – I feel free with him." 

“So, it’s a love thing then?” 

“No," she said earnestly. "Kylo agrees with me, trust is more important than love.” 

Finn looked at her, opened his mouth, closed it, and then changed the subject. 

+++++ 

Dinner was wonderfully cooked, with duplicate dishes – Poe and Kylo having differing opinions as to how certain Thanksgiving classics should be prepared. 

Finn and Rey said both versions were delicious, but for different reasons, while giving their partners meaningful thigh squeezes under the table. Poe and Kylo left the table in high good humour – honour intact. 

“Are you coming to the city Christmas and New Years?” 

Rey looked at Kylo. 

“I’m tied here, but we’ll come for the New Year celebration at least. Christmas will be spent here, in our home.” 

Rey squeezed his hand and nodded. 

“And I’d like to do a little clothes shopping, and Leia and Han have invited us to their New Years bash.” 

Poe’s eyes widened. 

“Leia knows you’re together.” 

Rey nodded. 

“I thought it only fair to tell her. We were pretty close while I was married to Ben and she took the breakup badly.” 

Poe snorted. 

“Ain’t that the understatement of the year!” 

Kylo laughed. 

Rey smiled and continued. 

“She never expected Ben and me to get back together. She knows how I feel about him now. I thought it only fair to let her know I’ve moved on rather than she hears second-hand.” 

“Like from that slimy slut Hux”, interjected Finn. 

“Yes, from Hux. Who was acting mighty strange when he visited us, let me tell you. At first I thought he was going down with flu, but now I’m starting to wonder if there were other causes.” 

“Oh, I’m pretty sure there were _other_ causes”, murmured Kylo. 

“Won’t Ben be at the New Year’s party?” asked Poe. 

“We never went, and to my best knowledge, he never went when he was single. Leia certainly doesn’t expect him to be there.” 

“I’m looking forward to meeting Leia,” commented Kylo. “She seems like my kind of woman.” 

Poe looked at him speculatively, “Yes, I think you’ll get on just fine.” 

“Will you be at the party?” asked Rey. 

“Yup, replied Poe, I got my invite from Han." 

"We’ll spend Christmas at my parents and then the New Year in the city. My schedule this year works out so I have the whole holiday off. I’ll be back in the city the twenty third, back at work January third.” 

The conversation drifted onto other topics, the room lit by the log fire and the various lamps scattered throughout it. 

Rey, looking on as Poe and Kylo bantered with each other, felt content for the first time in a long while, surrounded by the three people she loved most in the world – trusted, she amended. 

+++++ 

“What do you think;" Poe asked Finn the next day as they drove away, "do you think they’ll stay the course?” 

“I think so,” replied Finn, “he’s head over heels in love with her and, I think, playing for keeps - as long as that dick Solo keeps out of it.” 

“Mmm, he’s an object lesson of why you shouldn’t let someone access their trust fund aged eighteen.” 

“If that’s another way of saying he’s a spoilt, entitled dick, I fully agree.” 

Poe gave a snort of laughter.


	6. Chapter 6

Leia could feel how damp her panties were, and she was hoping Han went easy on the alcohol he and Chewie were sure to be knocking back as she had work for him once they got home. 

The reason for her clenching and fluttering was currently expertly manoeuvring her around the dance floor – she hoped the height difference didn’t look too ridiculous to onlookers. 

She had spotted Rey the minute the girl had stepped into the venue at L’Auberge, the high class hotel hosting the annual Organa-Solo New Years Eve Ball. 

As much as she loved her, she was quickly eclipsed by the tall hunk escorting her, dressed head to toe in black, in whose strong arms she was now held – against a chest that was surely made of granite. The fluttering intensified. 

Kylo Ren, Rey’s roomie, was gorgeous. Not conventionally handsome, perhaps, but she was aware of envious eyes on her as he’d led her onto the dance floor. It was something in the way he held himself, a man confident and happy in his skin. 

In many ways, he reminded her of a young Han, that buccaneering air of his was shared by this man. Although she would always regret the loss of Rey as a daughter-in-law, she didn’t blame her grabbing her chance at happiness – not when happiness looked like this! 

This was going to be a good night. 

+++++ 

Ben Solo knew his wife was in town, the PI he’d hired had told him that, and she had her boyfriend with her. 

He knew she was going to his parents’ annual new year’s ball too. 

His mother was a Luddite where technology was concerned. He picked the lock on her desk drawer and found the guest list tucked into her diary. His wife’s name was there, and her boyfriend’s. 

And now he would be there too. 

+++++ 

He’d been avoiding speaking to _her_ , letting her calls go to voicemail and deleting them, ignoring her texts and telling his secretary, if _she_ called, to take a message as he was out of the office. 

He made the mistake of reading her texts as he was deleting them. She was going to Leia’s New Year bash – and ~~the demigod~~ _he_ would be with her. 

To say that the news rocked his world would be an understatement – he had been sent an invitation too. 

No. No, he couldn’t go. Ben Solo would be there. 

He rang Leia to thank her for the invite. 

Ben _wouldn’t_ be there, he couldn’t stand the schmoozing that went on at these events ... 

Oh, shame! 

... he was coming though? 

Wouldn’t miss it for worlds! 

He laid his phone on his desk. 

No. No, he wouldn’t go. Anyway, he hadn’t a thing to wear... 

Leia greeted him warmly. Han shook his hand, his grip cool and dry, not warm to hot like ... he caught himself and returned their greeting. 

He walked to the bar, casually casting his eyes around the assembled company. 

No sign of _him_. 

He did a meet and greet as he crossed the floor to the bar, his family was well known in the city. 

He felt confident as he walked, knowing himself to be well dressed and well presented. 

As he stood at the bar sipping his whiskey... and there was that annoying voice. 

“Armie!” 

She wedged herself between him and the bar, reaching up and putting her arms around his neck, quite ruining his ensemble. 

She was chattering away, the usual nonsense, when he suddenly felt a broad expanse of heat behind him. 

He arched his back slightly and his shoulders met granite, then ~~the demigod’s~~ _his_ hands gripped his hips to steady him. 

He whimpered. 

The voice was right beside his ear. 

“Rey, let go, you almost overset Armitage.” 

Little men in spiked shoes ran up and down his spine, and there was a distinct tingling in his Calvin Klein’s, as the vibration of _that_ voice was caught by his ear and its effects transmitted throughout his body. 

Thankfully, the annoyance let go and she was spouting apologies. 

The hands were still on his hips and the mass of granite at his back seemed to be pressed closer. 

He felt his eyelids flutter. 

Shit, shit, bugger, fuck! 

Don’t faint! but if he did ... 

He imagined being bridal carried to a private room, those big warm hands loosening his tie and belt ... 

Thankfully, regrettably, the hands were removed and the heat moved away, he felt its loss immediately. 

Then _he_ was standing in front of him – the annoyance stepping away to make room. 

A large hand was extended and he was aware he was still holding his glass of whiskey. 

“Allow me.” 

The deep voice spoke and his right wrist was clasped as the whiskey glass was carefully removed from his grip – which went suddenly limp and weak. 

He watched the glass being deposited on the bar, and then those whiskey coloured eyes were turned toward him, brimming with amusement. 

His wrist was still being held and then his hand was gripped by _him_ in a firm, warm grip and he was pulled into that granite chest and held against it. 

He broke out in a sweat, he could feel beads of it on his upper lip – he’d forgotten about a handkerchief. 

Shit, shit, bugger, fuck! 

He was released, but _he_ kept hold of his hand, putting a steadying grip to his shoulder too. 

“Armitage, have you been avoiding us? Rey has been trying to contact you the last couple of weeks?” 

“No!” 

It came out as a squeak. 

He tried again. 

“No, pressure of work, you know, and the season.” 

His shoulder was being massaged. 

“Good, good, I’d hate for you to lose contact.” 

He felt his eyes wanting to roll back in his head and so he closed them. 

His hand was let go and the hand massaging his shoulder gave it a couple of pats. 

He opened his eyes; attention had been moved away from him. 

Leia and Senator O’Donovan were standing there. 

There was a little conversation, a little manoeuvring, and then _he_ was leading Leia out onto the dance floor, Rey was with Senator O’Donovan. 

He reached out for the paper napkins laid out on the bar and took a couple to pat dry his fevered brow and lip. 

A movement caught his eye, Poe Dameron and his boyfriend. 

The boyfriend was looking at him in horror. 

Dameron’s face wore a look of sly understanding. 

Dameron raised the champagne glass he was holding as if in salute and called out down the bar: 

“Armitage, we must go out together soon. There’s a couple of bars I know of you might like to visit.” 

Another figure caught at his peripheral vision. 

Ben Solo was standing at the edge of the dance floor watching his wife dance with Senator O’Donovan. 

He broke out in another sweat. 

Shit, shit, bugger, fuck! 

+++++ 

It was easy getting into the venue, his mom used the same security team for all her events and he was recognised instantly, a little bit of schmoozing and he was admitted. 

He saw her straight away, dancing with one of his mother’s cronies. He caught her eye and saw her lips thin – he knew that look. 

He had the chance to observe her as she danced and was reminded why he’d been so keen to tie her to him – she was gorgeous and she had heart. Plus the kudos of having a woman smarter than 90% of the men in any given room – him included. 

She finished the dance and to his surprise walked straight for him. That unsettled him, he had expected a scene. 

“Ben.” 

He shifted uneasily, “Rey.” 

“Are you here to support your mother, Ben, or are you here to see me?” 

He felt on safer ground. 

“I’m here to see you, Rey, we need to talk. 

She nodded. 

“Ok, but you might not like what I’ve got to say.” 

He looked at her, a mulish look on his face. 

She beckoned, “Come with me.” 

There were assigned tables, hers was empty and they sat down. 

“Ok, Ben. You go first.” 

Now she was before him, all his prepared speech went out of his head, the one where he won her back through his 100+ well thought out reasons why they should start over. 

He jumped right in, “I know I messed up, Rey, but I’m different now, a better person, and I want to start over.” 

“Ben, I’m glad for you, but as I told you, I’m not in love with you anymore.” 

This was so not what he wanted to hear. His temper flared. 

“Are you in love with _him_?” 

Her reply was instantaneous. 

“No, Ben, I’m not in love with him, but I trust him. In this case that’s more important than love.” 

“You can trust me, I’ve changed. I told you, I’m a better man now.” 

“Ben, I did trust you and you let me down very badly. Once trust has gone in a relationship it’s almost impossible to get back. Stronger relationships than ours would struggle to survive.” 

She could see he was getting frustrated. 

“Ben, you put me at risk of an STD or infection. If one of your women had given you something like that, how would you feel about her?” 

He moved uncomfortably in his chair. At last he managed, “Not good, but I always used a condom.” 

‘Thanks for nothing’ was her instinct to reply, but she held it back and persisted. 

“Ben, I’m not your wife, not anymore, and if this is about me being someone else’s wife, forget it. I doubt I’ll marry again. I have my job, my career, friendships, that’s all I want now, and to be left in peace. 

He was struggling to keep his temper, she could see. 

She just hoped Kylo, Finn and Poe kept their distance otherwise he would blow. 

“If _he_ asked you to marry him?” 

“I’d say no.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“You didn’t believe I would divorce you, but I did.” 

That was unanswerable and he knew in his heart of hearts it was over, but he had to keep pressing. 

“Why did you do that? We could have talked, gone to see someone and worked it out.” 

Looking at him, she knew how this night would end. He’d get drunk, start a fight or pick up a woman. It was all so predictable - what had she been thinking when she married him? 

“Ben, everything with us happened so fast neither of us thought through what we were doing. I didn’t think about my job and how it would take me away from you if I wanted to keep it. I won’t give up this project, not for you, not for anyone. With this on my resume I can work anywhere I want. To be with you I’d have to give up my job and career and I’m not prepared to do that.” 

At last he had something tangible to grasp onto, something which would save face. 

“So you’re telling me you’d rather have your job than being my wife?” 

“That’s what I’m telling you, and I’m not sorry for it.” 

“Well that’s just great, Rey. All this time you’ve kept me hanging on, me wanting to do the right thing and make amends and you had no intention of being serious about getting back together.” 

“That’s about the long and the short of it, Ben. My career comes first. That’s the way it is.” 

“That’s totally unacceptable. I see it all now. You had your chance with me and now I’m taking it back - your loss sweetheart.” 

“I’ll take that loss and shove it right back at ya.” 

“Huh, let’s see if you sing the same song in ten or twenty years.” 

He was standing now, confidence restored. 

“Yeah, I can see why you and my mom got on so well – putting your careers before people. Well, I’m not my dad – I can walk away and that’s just what I’m going to do.” 

“Well, you do that, Ben Solo, and you just watch this space.” 

“I’ve no time for losers, sweetheart.” 

With that he walked off. 

He paused on his way out. There was the boyfriend. 

He felt an instinctive surge of jealous anger, and then he noticed he was waltzing with Poe Dameron. 

”Jesus, let me out of here!” 

He walked rapidly to the exit. 

He slipped off his wedding ring and pocketed it. 

Time to get some action, and he knew where to get it. 

+++++ 

The minute he left the ballroom, Chewie stepped away from Leia and Han from Finn where they had crowded them against the bar. 

Kylo started manoeuvring Poe to the tables. 

They reached Rey to find her doubled with laughter. 

Leia surged forward, “Rey are you ok?” 

“Yes. Yes, I am.” 

“What happened?” 

“You know, I really don’t want to talk about it. I want to dance with my man, drink a little too much champagne, and have the best sex of my life.” 

“Sorry, lady, I’m taken.” 

Han had arrived, Chewie in tow, his trademark smirk curling the corner of his mouth. 

Kylo wrapped his arms around her, “I was hoping she meant me.” 

Leia leaned into Han, “She better. Else Han’s double booked!” 

“Ew,” said Finn, “old people having sex.” 

“Watch your mouth, kid”, Han warned. 

A little more banter and sass, then the group broke up leaving Kylo and Rey alone. 

His face was serious. 

“How did it go?” 

She turned in his arms, looking up at him. 

“He knows it’s over. He’s never going to accept me being with you, but then he’s never going to accept me being with anyone other than him.” 

“That’s seriously twisted.” 

She shrugged, “It’s Ben.” 

“Sooo, about the sex ...” 

She looked at him, eyes narrowed. 

“What about it?” 

“Well, a certain _supreme leader_ , he stroked his black silk tie suggestively with a truly wicked glint in his eyes, _may_ have booked a room here at Thanksgiving, and _may_ have ordered a bottle of vintage champagne to be delivered to said room on demand.” 

“Sooo, you were obviously hoping to get lucky tonight?” 

“Princess, I was born lucky.”


	7. Chapter 7

She caught Leia’s eye as they left the ballroom, giving a little wave. Leia winked and gave thumbs up, leaning into Han. 

They checked out her evening wrap and walked across the foyer to the elevators, hand in hand. 

As the elevator door closed behind them, he pulled a keycard out of his pocket and handed it to her. She took it, looking a question at him. 

He grinned, “I’ll have my hands full.” 

With that he swept her off her feet as if she were a bride. 

She laughed for the sheer joy of him. 

The doors opened and he was walking her down a hall fitted with a plush carpet. 

The door to the room swung open and she realised he’d booked not a room but a suite. 

Alarm bells started to ring. Why a suite over a room? Why order _vintage_ champagne? Unless he had something special in mind – like a marriage proposal, hence the bridal carry. 

If he was going to propose she would turn him down. The residual scars from her disastrous marriage to Ben Solo were still healing and she had meant what she said to her ex. 

She anticipated difficult days ahead in her work and personal life. 

He carried her across the threshold humming softly, turning to allow her to lock the door and lay the keycard onto a console table. There was a mirror over the table and the glimpse she caught of them as he walked into the sitting room showed the image of a happy couple. Her heart clenched. 

He walked through the sitting room into the bedroom. The drapes were closed and lighted lamps cast soft, welcoming light. Housekeeping had turned down the bed – expensive looking all white bedding. 

He set her down, removing her wrap. The room was heated perfectly, but she shivered as her wrap was cast over a convenient chair. 

He was looking down at her. 

“What is it Rey?” 

Ugh, where did she begin? 

“Nothing.” 

He was removing his jacket and loosening his tie. 

“Nothing, eh?” 

“Well, there is something ... maybe.” 

He was removing his shoes and socks. 

“And the something is?” 

She took a deep breath. 

“Kylo, I hope you’re not going to ask me to marry you, because if you do I’ll say no, and I don’t want it to be awkward between us, if you do, when I say no.” 

He looked at her quizzically. 

“That’s the ‘something’?” 

“Well, yes.” 

“Firstly, I’m here to give you the best sex of your life – as if I hadn’t already been doing that.” 

He cast a coy look at her, unbuttoning his shirt. 

“Secondly, I’d marry you in a heartbeat, but _you’ll_ have to ask _me_.” 

She looked at him, thinking he was being flippant. 

He was serious, going from his expression. 

“Oh!” 

He stood in front of her, shirtless, dressed only in his pants. 

“One more thing.” 

He paused, she looked at him expectantly. 

He pointed to himself and said, “I’m not Ben.” 

She felt embarrassed and foolish. 

There was only one remedy; she cast herself into his arms. 

“I’m so, so, sorry”, she mumbled into his neck. 

He didn’t reply, just held her tightly. 

“Rey, I would be honoured if you saw your future with me, but if it isn’t, just carry one thing forward: don’t let Ben Solo hijack your future relationships.” 

He pressed a kiss into her hair and disengaged himself, moving to the house phone and ordering up the champagne. 

He disappeared into the bathroom and she sat on the bed cursing herself for her crassness. 

How did they come back from this? 

There was a discreet knocking on the suite’s door – the champagne had arrived. 

The waiter set it out in the bedroom. She declined having him open it and gave him a generous tip. 

Securing the door, she walked with lagging steps back into the bedroom, to find Kylo dressed in a fluffy white robe opening the champagne bottle – the cork came out with a soft pop rather than a bang. 

He handed her a glass full of pale, biscuit coloured liquid, tiny, tiny bubbles gyrating throughout it. 

She sipped and her mouth was filled with a soft mousse. 

“Mmm. Kylo, this is delicious.” 

He tipped his glass in salute, settling on his usual side of the bed, pillows banked behind him. 

She drank again, regarding him over the glass. 

He looked his usual self, but she was aware she may have hurt his feelings. She moved across the thickly carpeted floor and sat beside his legs, which were stretched out, ankles crossed. 

He _looked_ relaxed. 

She regarded him as they silently sipped the wine. 

If this were Ben, she thought, he’d be throwing a massive sulk and I’d be working hard to placate him – sacrificing another piece of myself to keep the peace and keep him happy. 

In her eighteen months of marriage, she’d learnt Ben Solo was only happy when he was getting his own way. 

Kylo was right to point it out – he wasn’t Ben, nothing remotely like him. 

She made up her mind. 

Rising, she took her glass to the table and set it down beside the champagne cooler and unzipped her dress – floor length white tulle with tiny navy spots and three red silk roses stitched onto the front as a corsage. 

She let it drop and stepped out of it, wearing only white lace panties. 

A tremor passed over Kylo’s features and then was stilled. 

So, he was playing it cool, eh? Oh-kay. 

She picked up her glass of champagne and took slow steps toward him, one foot carefully placed in front of the other. 

She saw him swallow, all but licking his lips, and she stopped to take another sip of wine. 

He squirmed a little then stilled. 

She moved forward and leaned over to place her glass on the nightstand, reaching across and taking his glass from him. 

As she brought her hand back, she drew her fingertips across her stomach up toward her breasts, palming them, then placed both hands under her hair, drawing it up off her neck and turning her body 360degrees, showing him the goods, teasing him, letting her hair fall to her shoulders as she faced him once more. 

He still didn’t move, but she could tell he was fighting the urge to make a grab for her. 

“Sooo, she murmured, loosening the belt on his robe, it seems I’ve got some making up to do.” 

She pushed the robe apart and to the side. 

Mmm, he wasn’t as unaffected by her nakedness as he professed to be. 

“Now how should I do that, huh?” 

She drew her fingertips lightly down his body, slowly tracing its contours. “Perhaps a little bit of pleasure ...” she dug her nails lightly into his flanks, enough to make him convulse, “and a little bit of pain.” 

She was dragged onto the bed and was under him almost before she could finish speaking, his lips fastened to hers, his tongue demanding admittance. 

Eventually he raised his head, looking down at her. 

“Do you trust me?” 

His voice was deep and shaky with his passion upon him. 

Without hesitation she answered, “Yes.” 

He stood and cast the robe aside, removing her panties and sending them the same way. 

His erection was very evident and very strong. 

He pulled her to the edge of the bed and parted her legs, pushing up her knees to her shoulders and widening them to the width of his body, and then he entered her, arms passing under her knees. 

“Wind your arms around my neck and press close”, he instructed. 

When she was secure, her breasts and abdomen pressed hard against his chest, he passed his hands under her and lifted her. 

She gasped at the depth of his penetration, her calves and feet dangling from his forearms. 

He walked to the nearest wall, resting her shoulders against it, and bracing his hands upon it, adjusting her so she rested comfortably on his cock. 

Her upper body was pressed to his, but her lower body swung slightly – like a pendulum – as he thrust and retracted, the position providing a pleasurable friction against her clitoris. 

His head was tilted toward her and she kissed him again and again as he moved in her, a steady rhythm, one arm wound around his neck, her other hand buried in the thick mane of his hair. 

She stopped kissing him; her breaths becoming soft whimpers, his breaths rasping throughout the otherwise silent room with the effort of supporting her and timing his thrusting to increase her pleasure and bring her to orgasm, the primitive sounds adding to her enjoyment of him. 

Their eyes met, his face was soft in all its angles, his eyes dreamy with the pleasure of her. 

At the sight and sound of him, and with the fullness of his penetration, she reached her peak and cried out, clenching against him tightly – he followed her into bliss. 

He stood there some minutes, supporting her, chasing her fluttering and clenching with spasmodic thrusts, his face pressed against her neck. 

Then he moved them to the bed and laid her upon it, withdrawing from her, closing her legs and laying her against the pillows, pulling up the covers, turning off the lamps beside the bed. 

He slid in beside her, pulling her into him – she the little spoon. 

“Goodnight”, he murmured, placing a kiss in the crease between her neck and shoulder. 

“Goodnight, love”, she replied. 

The arms around her squeezed in reply and another kiss was placed against her skin. 

Her limbs felt languorous and heavy. 

Her thoughts were becoming dreamy and elusive. 

If this were Ben, he’d need praise and reassurance now, wanting to know how he’d performed. 

Was that why one woman wasn’t enough? Sleep pulled her under.


End file.
